


A Man

by Imagi77



Category: Disney - All Media Types, The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagi77/pseuds/Imagi77
Summary: Despite it being my most favorite Disney film, I have a few problems with a fact. The ending was rushed and Quasimodo seemed to not grieve over the man who made such an impact (negatively, for the most part) in his life. Not even a response or reaction that the man who raised him and had used him had fallen to his death. That was one thing that bothered me. So I dug in a little bit.





	A Man

The entire crowd of Parisians were in the midst of celebration, of freedom. Freedom from the grasp of a lost cause of a Minister. Or so, that was the opinion of the people. It was of a different story to one emotionally ruined lad, deformed and broken like a shattered gargoyle that fell weak during the night. His heart was that of a cracked bell, which could no longer sing to the day as it was meant to be. 

His father. The only one who looked upon him had raised him as his son had deceived him during all his lonesome, agonizing years of being in a cage. The cage of his own yearning heart and mind. A stone built to keep him trapped forever, now cracked and broken. The light could never be any clearer as it was as he would become enveloped in it. Since the day he had fallen into that tent during that dreaded festival. Or rather… it was not so dreaded.  
Love. 

It was something he so ventured to find. For all his lonely years confined in that tower. How could his only home hold so much hurt and so much melancholy?  
Esmeralda was safe, as was his city… the city he had dreamed of becoming a part of. A brother had spared him somehow, even though he hadn’t the faintest memory of how he fell. She was happy. It was more than enough for him to behold. 

She was safe and happy.

The smile which crept onto his face was short lived. They were so gleeful to be together. A kiss … so special and yet so different than the one she had given him when he had helped her. He could not twist it in any other way. The truth was right before his eyes. He released all his stress in one single breath as he turned his back. It was before he stood, stricken with sudden hurt when the thought that his father was…gone.  
The only man who stood by his side…who had taken him in. How could all that be a lie…? How could it be? He thought he was a good man deep down, someone who had pitied him. Who truly pitied him. Who took him in as…his own son, but only to be struck with the fact that he was only a burden to heal this awful guilt. Of murder… Frollo had murdered and had nearly murdered him. 

The conflicted bell ringer had limped to the parapet, away from the Captain and the kind gypsy, and gazed down to the recovering square. The air was poisoned by smoke. Tears of betrayal blinded him as he tried to make sense of it all. His entire life he had been brainwashed by evil…and he had to admit that he loved the man. He was loyal to him, he had respected him…he had obeyed him. There was no love, there was no purpose. He was only a puppet to Frollo and was used as a tool to bring hurt. To end the life of the only friend he had found in this dark world.

Phoebus turned to his dear friend and his stone face had seemed to fall when he saw the brave hunchback change from peaceful to troubled in less than a second. 

“Quasi…?”

Esmeralda’s smile had faded as her bright eyes turned dangerously grim for her friend. Right then she came to him. 

“Quasimodo…” came her passionate voice, just the same when she came atop that pillory he was tied down on.

Quasimodo leaned against a pillar so enveloped in memories that he had not felt her hand upon his thick shoulder. 

“…Quasi. It is done. Paris is safe.” Phoebus tried to cheer the lad up, but it did not make much difference.  
Quasimodo finally made movement and gazed at them both with a look so conflicted and heartbroken. Esmeralda saddened with him realizing the impact Frollo had on the poor boy. Quasimodo slowly shook his head at them. 

“…he killed her…” he soon spoke, speechless before he turned to leave.

Phoebus looked confused for a moment and looked at the gypsy with concern. 

The hunchback knew they were to follow him and he stopped for a moment.

“I’d like to be alone.” was the grim request. 

Esmeralda stopped in her tracks, looking shocked.

“…please…” he spoke again, in a voice on the verge of breaking. 

He then disappeared down the stair down to the great nave.

“…quasimodo…” Esmeralda tearfully sighed, knowing the pain he had to be feeling. 

There lied a beam, ran through the middle of the west portal, where the wood had littered the chilling tile. The iron spilled upon the steps had made it so that no one could enter, so the great space was ever so empty… just like his heart. The soul of the bells had stared at the destroyed door as though emotionless before he heard a faint grunt across. There was Pontius in massive pain as he tried so hard to get to his feet. It looked as though he had fallen or he was shoved down the stairs. As Phoebus and Esmeralda had come down after him, Quasimodo gasped and dashed to the injured bishop of Josas. They ran along with him to assist the poor man.

“…Quasimodo. Dear child.” panted Pontius, wincing from his hurt leg. 

“…wh-what has happened?” Quasimodo asked.

“Who did this to you?” Esmeralda shot, knowing who was to blame. 

“Th-the…agh! … the… Minister… h-he…” Pontius struggled.

“He did not!” Phoebus raged. “He…?” 

“…threw me…because I was in his way.”  
Quasimodo seemed to give a coughing sob when he said that. 

“…I tried to help him see reason, but…”

“He was too far gone.” Esmeralda spat in deep hatred. “…quasi?” 

“…please, just…” the hunchback struggled, but the Archdeacon needed care.

“Quasimodo, that man~” 

“I know what he did, all right?” Quasimodo said back, rather roughly. “…and that I helped him… He… he was all I had. All I had.” he finally broke down, turning the other way to be alone.

Esmeralda followed him and he leaned against a column trying so hard to fight his tears. 

“…he…was…all I had…” he said again, in a very small, hurt voice before he began to weep. “…a-and he had lied to me… used me…when I believed that he meant well…b-before I…met you…”

Esmeralda held back her tears as she listened to him. Pontius looked deeply troubled, seeing the bell ringer grieve for the insane Minister. Esmeralda came before Quasimodo, to look him straight in the eye. 

“Quasimodo, look at me…” she ordered of him. “…you did what was right. Even when…” she trailed off, remembering seeing the boy holding onto the stone as he held Frollo’s cape. “…you are strong. Stronger than me, than anyone I have known…to be willing to fight for what is right. Even against your … family.”  
Quasimodo’s tearful, conflicted eyes wavered to her but then they were closed. 

“…I…I n-never knew that he…th-that he would do such things… I… I could not let him…” he wept, burying his face in his hands.  
Esmeralda put his hands down and got close to hug the hunchback. He then accepted the offer instantly. Despite her hatred for the Judge for all he had put the city through, but Quasimodo was close to Frollo, like a son. He was a son who had just lost his father…to insanity. 

“My dear, dear friend… I am so sorry.” Esmeralda strained as a tear escaped her eye. “I didn’t mean to bring you more hurt by being so crude about it. He did mean a great deal to you.”

“Giving him my appreciation was in vain. All of it.” the hunchback’s voice shook. “He only took me in to use me… use me to get to you.” 

“It was wrong that he had used you. But none of it was your doing. None of it. You know that.” Phoebus said as he stayed beside the Bishop.  
Quasimodo nodded as he kept his arms around himself after Esmeralda’s consolation. He tried as hard as he could to blink his tears away. Phoebus gave him a kind, caring smile as Esmeralda followed him to help Pontius. 

“My dear boy. I regret having him raise you. I had the regret of it since he had …”

“Sir…” Quasi shut his eyes, hating to listen. So much hurt. 

“No. You must know the truth. He…did murder and had almost murdered you. I could not let him destroy you. An innocent foundling who had done no wrong. At all. And to commit it before the Mother… it was pure injustice. I am sorry, dear boy. You deserved none of his treatment… I tried to interfere as much as I could. You were so very young at the time when he began locking the doors.”

Quasimodo’s face twisted with grief, looking at the Bishop and then away from him. Pontius sighed before he, the soldier and the gypsy heard cheers outside. Quasimodo looked at the door perplexed. There was sure reason for it. The Judge was gone. 

“Quasimodo?” Esmeralda asked when she saw him begin to stay where it was dark.

“We should go and tell them that all is well,” Phoebus added. 

Quasimodo seemed to be keeping his face away. Esmeralda came to him.  
“Quasi. They would want to see the face of their rescuer.” she smiled. 

“I am not going out there. Never again.” he soured, crossing his arms. “Too much pain. They would not care anyway.”

“That is not true.” 

“How do you know?” he then said, looking at her rather sharply.

She was shocked, hurt. 

“You-you saw them a-all. They roped me, they kicked me. They pelted me with garbage. They only see me as some … animal to spit on.”

“You just need to give them a chance…” Esmeralda boldly said, softly stroking his back. 

He was enduring woe after woe of the events prior. He needed some time to himself. At his silence, she then let it go. He had lowered his head and turned slightly to her.

“…thank you…” he uttered as a sob was trapped in his throat. 

As he lowly said that, he tenderly held her hand back.

“You have a big heart. Even willing to care for a man who had brought so much hurt to you. You are more of a man than he gave you credit for.” 

Quasimodo sighed, his chest shaking and sadly gazed up at the colorful Rose as the morning sun began to show through it. He blinked his tears back again as he gazed downward again.

“…a man…” he swallowed, speaking in a tightened voice.


End file.
